Deathsmith, by Pete Aldin

I’d like to claim that the idea for Deathsmith came to me after hours of reflecting on Jim Collins’ Hedgehog Concept. For those who don’t know (and who’ll trust my paraphrasing ability) the main point of said Concept is: the hedgehog has one thing he (or she) is really good at and sticks to – curling up into a ball and poking out his (or her) quills in defense. The wiley fox on the other hand goes from skill to skill, from strategy to strategy, but will never overcome the hedgehog’s one real trick. I’d like to say Deathsmith is about a guy who’s a one-trick-pony (or hedgehog) … and milks that one trick for all it’s worth.

I’d like to claim I always intended it to be a parable about the human longing for roots, for community, for loving and being loved with an open heart.

I’d like to claim it’s a story I intentionally crafted about a fellow who should’ve heeded the old adage: ‘Beware strangers bearing gifts’ … especially when those strangers are spirit beings, or young girls.

None of those things is true.

In actual fact, the story started with the title.

The word ‘Deathsmith’ popped into my head while I was daydreaming one day. I sat down the next day and wrote most of Draft 1 in a single sitting, then finished it the next. No outline. No idea of where it was headed until it was done. The dialog and plot materialized entirely out of the interplay between the characters and their emerging backstories.

Three drafts later, little had changed but for some polishing (notably the culling of an over-abundance of adverbs, such as ‘notably). I submitted to IGMS and to my delight got that positive response all writers long for … along with a healthy reality check from editor Edmund Schubert!

Edmund expertly pointed out the major flaw produced by my lack of outline writing, and pushed me to dig deeper. And I’m grateful. Extremely grateful. Deathsmith is a far better story for his input, as is my writing generally. (Damn, another adverb!).

Thanks for reading, and to all the crew at IGMS for the fabulous spec fiction venue they’ve created!

--Pete Aldin

Schadenfreude, Michelle Scott

Franz Kafka’s short story A Hunger Artist has always fascinated me. Back in college, when I read it for the first time, it was Kafka’s surreal depiction of a man in a cage who publicly starves himself to death that haunted me. Recently, however, when I assigned the same story to my own college students, I was struck by something that made the story evocative in an entirely new way. Re-reading this story as a middle-aged woman instead of a young coed, it occurred to me that the unnamed hunger artist, who was once heralded as a master of his art form, had outlived his phenomenon and was left with only two options: move on to something else or commit suicide.

In Schadenfreude, the main character, Chad, is a pain comic. Like Kakfa’s hero, his body is his tool and he uses it with great effect. But when the story opens, it is clear that Chad’s body is breaking down and his best days are probably behind him. He, of course, is desperate to make sure that doesn’t happen. After all, it’s a pain comic’s mantra that, “you’re only as good as your last show.”

But while Kafka’s hunger artist had to endure the ignominious ending of his career alone, I simply couldn’t be that cruel. Because of this, Connie Lingus made her entrance. Like other, real-world, redheaded comediennes such as Lucille Ball and Carol Burnett, Constance Gestler is a woman of passion and strength, and she comes out of retirement in order to rescue Chad and give him something to hang on to. Whether or not the aging comedians can compete with the raw appetites of a far younger audience remains to be seen, of course. But while two pain comedians may not be funnier than one, they are certainly not lonelier.

--Michelle Scott

Express to Paris by Dragon First Class—Tom Crosshill

For a while before I wrote "Express to Paris by Dragon First Class", I'd wanted to try depicting an entire lifetime in a piece of flash fiction. This desire wasn't specific enough to generate a story, though. The particular structure I had in mind required a singular character with a singular desire that could carry over a lifetime, informing every stage of the character's life.

Such a character -- Jima -- finally came to me one evening while my flight taxied to the runway at LaGuardia. I'd been reading about pilots and their peculiar seniority rules, and I looked out the porthole and saw the pale shapes of jetliners slumbering in the gloom. I wondered immediately what it would be like if 737s had unions.

The step to dragons followed naturally. Better yet -- dragons working side by side with 737s, and forced aside by them eventually. I hoped this setup would not only have poignancy in and of itself, but would also resonate with readers who have spent any length of time working in our increasingly mechanized world.
In the end, though, I wrote this story because I fell in love with Jima and her dream. I'm still rooting for her.

--Tom Crosshil

www.tomcrosshill.com

Orson Scott Card's InterGalactic Medicine Show - new issue live

The new issue is live and ready for your consumption, featuring all the goodies listed in our last blog entry.

"But wait!" cried the editor in his best traveling Medicine Show call-voice, "There's more."

All of the things I listed below are fairly typical of what you'd find in an issue of IGMS. To round out the celebration, we also have an extra audio story, Mary Robinette Kowal's reading of Tom Crosshill's flash story "Express To Paris by Dragon First Class." That audio is free to all, whether you have a subscription (yet) or not. And if you need a bigger sample of IGMS, we've also made the entirety of issue 11, our first issue under the current format, free until the end of the year. Issue 11 has an OSC story and audio-production, as well as Peter S. Beagle's "Vanishing" as the cover story and several other stories, one of which was an Honorable Mention in Gardner Dozois's latest Year's Best anthology, and another of which won the WSFA's 2009 award for Best Short Story of the Year. Lots of great stuff, free for everyone's reading pleasure.

So step right up and see the show. Invite a friend or two and we'll make a party of it.

Edmund R. Schubert
Editor, Orson Scott Card's InterGalactic Medicine Show

Coming Next Week: IGMS 5th Anniversary Issue

___
Our line-up of stories includes new a Orson Scott Card story, “The Expendables,” which in some ways is a sneak peek at his forthcoming novel, Pathfinder, due out in November, and in some ways is a unique stand-alone piece that you won’t find anywhere but IGMS. And the audio verson of the story is performed by OSC himself. Cool stuff.

We also have the magical fantasy “Right Before Your Very Eyes” by regular contributor Matt Rotundo, a disturbing SF story about the lengths future stand-up comics will go to for laughs in “Schadenfreude” by Michelle Scott, a curmudgeon with the ability to cast killing spells in Pete Aldin’s “Deathsmith,” and the tale of a defective clone – at least everyone else thinks so – in “The Ghost of a Girl Who Never Lived” by Keffy Kehrli.

Darrell Schweitzer interviews writer Andy Duncan, and in case you didn’t get enough OSC the first time, we also present Part 3 and the conclusion of our serialization of OSC’s novella, “Eye For an Eye.” Plus another in David Lubar’s series of “Tales for the Young and Unafraid.” To round out the celebration, we also have an extra audio story, Mary Robinette Kowal’s reading of Tom Crosshill’s flash story, “Express To Paris by Dragon First Class.” That audio will be free to all, whether you have a subscription (yet) or not.

Side-show Musings: Mother, Daughter; Girlfriend, Boyfriend

Last night I caught the pilot of the new ABC super-hero drama, No Ordinary Family.  For the most part it was a mediocre show with some fun highlights and a few poignant moment.

One scene took me right out of the show, however, and I’ve been thinking about it all night. 

The set up: Daughter has just found out that her boyfriend is sleeping with her best friend.  Daughter says tearful farewell to Boyfriend, and storms out of his house.  Mother talks to daughter to find out what’s troubling her.

DAUGHTER: Boyfriend is sleeping with Best Friend!

MOTHER: That b***h!

DAUGHTER: I know, right?

Well, sure.  Best Friend is a not-nice word.  There’s a level of trust, implicit in the relationship between best friends, that you just don’t DO that.  So yeah…  But what ISN’T said is what goads me to write this post.

What about Boyfriend?  Why isn’t she railing at him?  Is he incapable of taking responsibility for his actions?  Are men seen as somehow non-culpable when it comes to the destruction of relationships?

Because if they are, someone TOTALLY forgot to tell the women in my life that I have ZERO control over the way I interact with others.  The excuse, “Eh.  I’m a guy.  Whaddaya want?”  is never heard spoken in my home. 

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like the opposite situation, either—where the guy is the scapegoat for everything wrong in the relationship (cf, Everybody Loves Raymond).  But the mother and daughter’s reaction to the boyfriend’s relationship to the best friend just seemed…unrealistic.  In a show where a woman can run 700 miles an hour, where a middle-aged police sketch artist can jump 1/2 a mile and catch bullets…that was the scene that got me thinking, “Unbelievable.”

Maybe I don’t understand women.  I’m pretty sure I understand men, though, and I guarantee: Boyfriend needs to be held accountable for his actions, just like Best Friend.

Side-Show Links

Whew!  It’s been a busy, busy couple weeks.  Here’s some light reading.

Opera and invented language: the Space Opera takes on new meaning!

Cave Paintings

Terry Pratchett knighted; makes a sword.

The Sword that Terry Pratchett Made

Little green men, sir.  That's who disrupted the launch.

Internet as a State-Sponsored Weapon

Orson Scott Card story - free on IGMS - limited time

In celebration of "Elephant Appreciation Day" (celebrated on September 22), Orson Scott Card is making his story "The Elephants of Posnan" FREE on IGMS from September 17 through September 22.


http://www.intergalacticmedicineshow.com/

Sideshow Links: Sept. 10, 2010

Solar Flare imagery

Healing gel

Earth and moon as seen from other-worldly perspectives.  Check out the picture of Saturn (from Cassini).  Gorgeous.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me a Match…

Find me a find, catch me a catch. It’s too bad this isn’t a podcast. I have a wonderful voice. Really, I do…

Today’s topic is matchmaking. We shall not concern ourselves in this small space with hormone-driven adolescent or even post-adolescent attempts at acquiring a suitable…suitor. We shall not mention Mr. Darby; nor Mr. Rochester. Nor shall we touch—not even for the briefest moment—the issue of Mr. Cullen.

No, indeed. We shall not. Shan’t, even.

Intergalactic Medicine Show is a speculative fiction magazine. We look for stories that contain some type of fantastic element: from aliens, to fairies; from starships, to Viking boats; toViking aliens driving starships rowed by Elven slaves. (“Row, you miserable little pixie vermin! It’s twelve hundred thousand light-leagues to Betelgeuse, and I’ll have your fore-wings if we aren’t there by mead-time!”)

In terms of genre labeling, we have printed science fiction, steampunk, fantasy, contemporary fantasy, urban fantasy, mundane science fiction, horror, psychological horror, far future science fiction, epic fantasy, sword and sorcery, cyberpunk, and magical realism. The Medicine Show has many booths, and varied and sundry are the goods therein.

Even so. We have submission guidelines for a reason. Some stories do not interest us; some stories offend even our cosmopolitan literary palates. Standards! Morals! Hygiene! Without these things, our world dissolves into so much sloppy mush. Literarily speaking.

I am not talking, necessarily, about offensive stories, or counter-culture narratives, or allegorical exposes of the underbelly of contemporary society. All those things are welcome in our magazine provided they contain some speculative content.

The truth is that no matter how well written your literary fiction short story is, it’s unlikely to be accepted by Intergalactic Medicine Show. And if we can’t find the speculative fiction element in your short story—say, within the first couple pages—we’re not likely to keep looking for it.

This isn’t, by the way, unique to IGMS. MOST science fiction and fantasy magazine editors and slush editors need to see the speculative content up front, just to keep reading. We have an implied contract with our audience—you wouldn’t expect to turn on the Sci-Fi channel and find yourself watching wrestling, would you? Or the History channel and find yourself watching a show about the impact of aliens on ancient culture?

Er…

In any case, matchmaking! How can you tell if your story is a match for IGMS?

1) Follow the submission guidelines.

2) Read the magazine. There is no better way to gauge a market. The submission guidelines are general guides to what we like; the printed stories are implemented examples.

3) Consider the advice given in the Freak Filter posts on this blog. The Freak Filter; The Freak Filter Redux.

Again, it’s a good idea to clearly introduce your speculative content within the first couple pages of your submission. That way, you meet the audience expectation for oddity right up front.

--Scott M. Roberts

Asst. Gentleman Caller

2010 Hugo Winners

Congratulations to all you fine folks!

Sideshow Links- September 1, 2010

Creating Language:  Interview with the gentleman creating the Dothraki language for HBO's take on George R. R. Martin's 'A Song of Ice and Fire' series. 

Save the Words:Neat little site with thousands of strange words.  Get to know a word; adopt it!

Pennsylvania Graves:Irish ghosts, cholera, violent murder, Pennsylvania, forensic science, geophysics...disturbing and intriguing all at once.

Star Trek Meets Farmville

Mystery of Miranda—David A. Simons

Like most science fiction fans, I'm fascinated by exploration. Unmapped islands, hidden caves, lost continents, and of course, uncharted class M planets. I decided to write a story about a man obsessed with exploration, living in a near future where there was little available to explore.

I worked out the setting and the plot quickly. The story would take place on Miranda, a mysterious, fractured moon in the outer solar system. My narrator--the explorer--would rappel down a deep canyon, with several contrarian companions. A mystery would build about the canyon's nature, which would be solved at the bottom. I figured I was ready to write, and that the story would go smoothly.

I wasn't, and it didn't. This story was a major struggle for me. I nearly abandoned it several times, including after submission.

In the first draft, there was no Shelley. The narrator's foil was a scientist named de Marco, who argued with Lance about the purpose of exploration. The story was pedantic, and Lance's decision at the end seemed petty, rather than resonant or cathartic. I trashed it and started over.

In v2, I replaced de Marco with Shelley, the ex girlfriend, hoping to give Lance more internal conflict. The second draft was better, but I still did not have a feel for the narrator's voice, and his actions still felt forced. I sent the draft to some of my Clarion West classmates and a few others for critiques. All of them told me the story had some good elements (mainly the setting), but they weren't buying the character's decisions, and suggested various revisions. Radical revisions.

At this point, I was tired of the story and anxious to move on to something new. So I convinced myself that the good outweighed the flaws, patched it up a bit, added more symbolic imagery (always a bad sign), and sent it off.

In March, I got an email from Edmund saying that one of his assistant editors had recommended the story, and that he was interested in publishing it, but felt that the main character's motivation needed more development. (Well, if you've ever received comments from Edmund, they were a bit more colorful than that. For example, in his redline, he wrote: "Why Why Why is Lance so blessedly obsessed with being first???")

I re-read the story with fresh eyes. I not only agreed with Edmund, I was embarrassed that I'd let the story out the door. I could see clearly now that I'd committed a cardinal Scribner's sin--I'd let idea and outline dictate the action, rather than conflict and character.

Edmund waited patiently for several months while I reworked the story. I made Lance's relationship with Shelley the focus, rather than the subplot. I added all of the back-story from Mars, tightened the pacing, and gave the minor characters (Wil and Catherine) a bit more to do and say. I also completely rewrote the dialogue and the ending.

Does the story work now? I hope it does for some. As a writer, I learned a valuable lesson: don't force a story. No doubt, I'll re-learn that lesson over and over again.

--David A. Simons

Sideshow Arcade: Arkham Horror

Summer has ended.  Not the season, of course, but the frantic days of vacation and adventure.  Stow the tents; cover the grill.  Take out a second mortgage to purchase school supplies for the rising generation of Einsteins, Shakespeares, and Churchills.  A return to school means a return to a schedule.  For me and my friends, a schedule means that we can reliably forsake homes and loved ones one night a month, abscond to a darkened basement and satisfy our craving for…board games.

Arkham Horror is on of my current favorites.  Not for the faint of heart, it finds its inspiration in the Cthulhu mythos of HP Lovecraft and his literary descendants.  It is a cooperative game of investigation, and otherworldly terror—you and your teammates play a group of intrepid investigators, bent on uncovering the dark creature behind ongoing weirdly happenings in the town of Arkham, Mass. 

It’s a bit like an role-playing game in that players choose characters with different abilities.  One character may be a sharp shooting mob boss; another a mentally resilient nun.  Victory over the forces of darkness doesn’t increase your stats, but you can use the victories to purchase limited upgrades for your character.  While it is constrained by typical boardgame considerations  (play is fairly linear, and there’s not a lot of incentive to deviate or innovate), it succeeds in setting a frantic pace for survival.  Within the first few rounds, even novice players get the feeling that this ain’t no Chutes-n-Ladders.  Maybe if the Ladders led to a dark forest lair, inhabited by Shubb-Niggurath, Goat of a Thousand Young.   Or if the chutes dropped you into Hibbs roadhouse, where the thugs may be as more than unwelcoming…they may be downright predatory.  Monsters are generated quickly, and the locales in Arkham are decidedly non-urbane.  The overall goal of the game is to keep the Ancient Horror that slumbers beneath, above, or within Arkham asleep; failing that, it is to defeat the Abomination when it awakens. 

Gameplay is complex at first.  I’m afraid to say that it took me a couple gaming sessions to really understand the game.  The payoff, in my opinion is worth it.  Each game turn is divided into phases, which each player takes his turn with.  There are 5 phases which can be tiresome until the process is understood by all the players.  Once learned, the flow becomes much more natural.  There are a billion little pieces to keep track of; one wonders if the manufacturers owns stock in Cardboards-R-Us.

Another ding against the game: its manual qualifies as a tome.  The art is nice, and it’s written clearly and well, but there’s no escaping the fact that its a manuscript.  It can be daunting for new players.  I highly suggest that when you start out, get the PDF of the rules and keep a laptop nearby so that you can search for rules more quickly.

My final criticism of the game is this: the build-up to the Ancient One’s awakening is tough.  I mean, this is a game with the ability to make you worry about its outcome.  It’s emotionally perilous, even, and so successful.  You’ve been playing this character for an hour or two; you’re invested in his or her success, but the game is a beast.  Monsters and bad guys patrol the streets, and you’ve only barely scraped by with your health and sanity in check.  Then comes the Big Bad; you’ve failed in your attempt to keep it asleep, to safeguard reality from the onslaught of Cthulhu or Hastur, or Nyarlanthotep… the only thing to do is to mount a desperate attempt to beat back its influence.  Paltry hope!  Deadly foe!

Except…not.  To date, the Big Bad has been pathetically easy for my group to beat.  The rest of the game is a gauntlet; the Ancient One is a cakewalk by comparison.

Those things said, it’s still a successful implementation.  I’ll also note that there are a number of house rules and help available on the internet to mitigate all these problems.

So what are you waiting for?  Arkham and her horrors await…

--Scott M. Roberts

Fnagh! Eo waghet!  Cthulhu p’nang ano!

Sideshow Links: August 25, 2010

Minneapolis Will Pay Zombies: Oh, crap. The lawyers are working for the undead. The possibilities are gut-wrenching.

Coca-cola camouflage: This outfit may work against drunk men intent on harassing you. I question its utility against anyone else. Especially zombies.

Mural: The Game: An interesting experiment in physics and art. Mona Lisa go splodey! Perhaps the one sure-fire way to distract zombies in their march toward city hall: they love to slowly take off her skull and put it back, and take it off again…

The Truth About Bacon: Well…the truth as I’d like it to be. I wonder if brains taste like bacon to a zombie?

--Scott M. Roberts

Asst. Shambler

How About It, Roomie?

Every time I'm reminded of this story I feel like it's a requirement to have a poster slapped on my chest disclaiming that I'm not a psychopath. But you do have to delve a bit into insanity to be a successful writer. When I began writing "How about it, Roomie?" I had a few roommates in the past and from what I'd experienced as well as others I had previously joked with, roommates can be disastrous. But it couldn't be all that bad. Roommates come and go. It could be worse. Then I thought, "It could be MUCH worse." You never look at a roommate and think they're completely bananas after the first meeting. Then they begin walking around in their underwear. In "How about it, Roomie?" I thought that the subtle interview maybe wasn't so subtle this time around. How would it be if your interview went horribly wrong. I mean horribly!

In the first draft I had it so that the interviewee was already in power and that the interviewer no longer had a choice in the matter, being tied up - so the question "How about it?" was rhetorical. My inspiration came from looking at movies like Psycho and chuckling under my breath. From enjoying Zombie movies because zombies are not scary, but silly. I think that's how this story was written. Let's be afraid of the dark truths of reality - but laugh a little while doing it. But, when you look at it - roommates are crazy, but never this bad. Read it however you like, gain whatever message you see in this short tale of strange. I hope you enjoy it. After all, who doesn't enjoy a bit of twisted dark humor every now and again?

--Chase Guymon

The Anatomy of Melancholyanisaurus…

(There’s no such thing as a Melancholyanisaurus)

However, this article on dinosaur anatomy and all the cool details paleontologists are learning was soo freaking cool I had to share it. 

Claws, Jaws, and Spikes: The Science of the Dinosaur Arsenal

Not just words…but pictures! 

Dinosaurs, the science of defending oneself, an examination of precise meat-eating techniques…It’s like Man Day at wired.com!

--Scott M. Roberts

Asst. Stegosaurus

Adam Colston—The Quanta of Art

The Quanta of Art was first imagined during the security-check at Bristol Airport, prior to boarding a flight to Turkey last year. I don’t think it was the act of shoe-removal or the uncomfortably intimate pat-down by a large, humorless guy that triggered the idea, but the x-ray devices and the scanners themselves.
I am not asserting, by the way, that particles leaked from these devices, then crashed into the soggy grey mush inside my skull and fired the appropriate neurons -- et voila -- The Quanta of Art was born.

No -- it was simpler than that.

As I bent down to re-tie my shoelaces, a character occurred to me: a guy who’d had radical surgery to implant all manner of weird and wonderful technology on and himself--scanners, etc. He looked horrific, but he’d be someone we’d pity, not fear.

So, he was a beast…so what about a beauty? Why did he do this to himself ? As a matter of fact, who is telling the story and why? Questions, questions and more questions hit me as I stood and grabbed my freshly irradiated stuff from the x-ray machines conveyor belt…

As I sat in the departure lounge, and later on the plane, I typed up a simplified version of the story and sent it to my buddy, Frank. By the end of my week in Turkey, the story had been enhanced, layered, motivations defined and the ending completed.

I subbed the story to the Writers of the Future contest, but it was removed from consideration when I won the previous quarter. I was later told by the judge, K.D. Wentworth, that she’d loved the story and had selected it as a finalist before getting the message to pull it.

Next, it went to straight to InterGalactic Medicine Show and my thanks to Eric and Edmund for enjoying enough to pick it from the slush.

Best,

Adam

IGMS #18 Preview

Intergalactic Medicine Show #18 is LIVE, featuring the following stories:

Peter S. Beagle returns to IGMS with a rip-roaring tale of two dragon control officers in Trinity County, CA.

Be prepared to get surreal in Willam T. Vandemark’s  Forcing Coin. What’s life without a little mystery, the protagonist asks.

 

Stultifying, comes the answer from another story on the opposite end of the genre spectrum. Every square inch of old Earth is known, measured, mapped—but there’s a great big solar system out there, if Lance can just get there. Places to go, mysteries to see—and none more startling than David Simon’s The Mystery of Miranda.

 

Change your venue, change your mind (literally) with British author Adam Colston’s The Quanta of Art. Ah, modern art! You might be skeptical at first—the story’s hapless gallery owner, Mr. Whistler is. But, like I said…you’ll change your mind once you behold Violix’s latest work. Careful not to stare too long…

Think you’ve got roommate troubles? Could be worse. Could be much, much worse, according to Chase Guymon’s How about it, Roomie?

 

And finally, someone named Orson Scott Card considers bioelectrical energy, family ties, love, Biblical-style vengeance, religion, race, and bad makeup in part two of Eye for Eye.

 

All this plus interviews, audio recordings, fantastic artwork, and more in Intergalactic Medicine Show #18!

Now Live at the InterGalactic Medicine Show - IGMS Issue 18

Issue 18 - August 2010
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Trinity County, CA - by Peter S. Beagle (100-mile-an-hour fun dragon story)
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The Mystery of Miranda - by David Simons (planetary exploration)
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The Quanta of Art - by Adam Colston (art is life (or vice versa))
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Forcing Coin - by William T. Vandemark (too strange, you'll just have to read it for yourself)
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How About It Roomie - by Chase Guyman (one of Orson's writing students at SVU, where the boss occasionally teaches)

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Part Two of Orson Scott Card's novella, An Eye For An Eye
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Forcing Coin is also our audio story for the month

Darrell Schweitzer interviews Richard Lupoff

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...and a guest editorial by Mark Van Name, whose novel was just released and the profits from the hardcover go to support a very worthwhile charity